He is Nothing
by sweetsakuya
Summary: Spike wishes for his Yoda to take him home.


Hi folks,  
it has been a long time since I actually uploaded a story. This is a Spike/Angel fanfiction with some slash undertones. (I am a huge fan of that pairing). I might write a sequel; ideas are always welcome as well as reviews of course! Have fun.

**He is Nothing**

He has forgotten how to care. You think that you are friends and that, when your time together is over, you will see him again. But you are nothing but a fleeting memory to him. Sometimes he pauses for a second to think of the people he once knew. He tries to feel something for them, they have been a part of his life at one point after all. With a hint of sadness, he then realises that he indeed feels nothing at all for any of them. But these seconds pass quickly and other thoughts enter his mind, for he is the man that cannot care.

He has forgotten how to form any kind of attachment. Feelings of others scare him and he is good at running away instead of facing them. He cannot understand how anybody could actually like him, or, at least, the mask he wears. Behind his smile lies a world of loneliness. His heart is buried deep in a chest made of darkness and blood. He has been hurt over and over again but the first time still stings the most.

He has forgotten how to live without fear. Fear of being hurt again, of being left again. He is tired from running away all the time but stopping is not an option for him. Every time he did pause, even if just for a moment, he stumbled and fell. Somebody would show up and tear his soul to shreds again. He perfected the performance over time. You never know he is acting until you are out of sight. Then you are reduced to be only a name on a list. One of the many who will receive Christmas and Easter cards and an Ecard for your birthday, if he can remember when it is. But he is not too good with dates, so he probably forgets your day of birth; and, in time, your name will vanish from his list only to be replaced by another. And he will feel nothing when he erases you from his life.

He has forgotten how to live. "A man without feeling", he has been told so many times, "is already dead." He sometimes can fool himself with his act. There are times he feels almost happy, almost like he belongs. But these moments do not last for long. Soon the nothingness catches up with him and swallows him whole again. Every dream he ever had has come true. He has everything he ever wanted and the only price he had to pay was his heart. And he is not the only one.

But even to those he does not belong completely. He exists somewhere between and from time to time the longing for more overwhelms him. There are still some people he feels for. He misses his family deeply and wishes to be near them again. Only during those precious days, when he was with them, did he feel like he was safe and loved. Theirs were the only feelings he could except and deal with. Their love for him kept him going throughout the stormy days. They were the only ones.

He has forgotten how to trust. Sharing himself with anyone is out of the question. The one he trusted the most betrayed him, left him heartbroken and dying. "I miss you daddy", he whispers into the night. But his daddy will never come back. He was the first to leave him, in a time he needed him the most. After this he closed off his heart and hid his soul. He drowned his pain and anger in a sea of blood and whiskey. His daddy some time ago said about him: "Once he starts something he doesn't stop until everything in his path is dead." How true. His daddy taught him well. He is a real master when it comes to torture and pain. And so is he now. He thrives on it. It makes him forget his own.

Now, without his family and full of fear, he only has his obsessions. He can obsess over the smallest, most trivial thing. But his greatest fixation is love. Love of any kind. He can sense it in every person around him, but not in himself. For every time he loved someone they told him: "You are beneath me. You will never mean anything to me." And still he is obsessed with it. He is addicted to the one thing he will never have and never feel. Instead of actually caring for a person he obsesses. It is easier that way for an addiction can be overcome and normally they just go away all by themselves. All except the one, the greatest one. No matter how far he runs or how much he destroys, it is always there at the back of his mind.

"Daddy, please come back and take me home.", he whispers as a lonely tear finds its way down his cheek. His voice broken and unheard.


End file.
